


The Words

by guardianofdragonlore



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Everyone is a dork, Fluff, Multi, No one is cool, fluff mostly, friendships, they deserve the world and more though, they don't even have "cool" hobbies, with the angst of life thrown in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-07-13 20:45:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7136450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardianofdragonlore/pseuds/guardianofdragonlore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Can I copy your homework?" Is sadly a common question for one Edward Elric.</p><p>Ling didn't even know what half of his Words meant when he first got them.</p><p>Aka the soulmate au that I have never found.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Why is there such a lack of EdLing? And even more than that, this fandom has a serious lack of soulmate AU's.

“Mom! It’s happened, it’s happened!” 

Trisha looked up the stairs at the sound of her oldest son’s shouts. Only one thing could have made him so energetic this early on a Monday morning. His Words had finally arrived. Ed had been so excited when he first learned what words were.

Wow! I can’t wait till I have my own! were the first words out of his mouth. Trisha herself had been apprehensive about Words in general for a long time. Until she met the man who said them, of course.

Rubbing her Words (I’m so sorry miss, let me clean that off, I should have looked where I was goin- why are you laughing at me?) Trisha bounced up the stairs. The Words were the best thing she had, besides her sons. She wanted to be with Edward for this, ‘severe cold’ be damned.

Alphonse peeked out from behind his door as she walked by. Rubbing at his eyes sleepily, Al slurred,

“Wha’s goin’ on?”

“A very important thing, Alphonse. Come see,” Trisha took his hand and led him down the hallway to Ed’s open door. Al stumbled a bit in his footie pajamas, but followed.

For a child, Edward’s room was very neat. All of his books were shelved alphabetically to the left, and all toys were arranged in certain groups on the right. His bed was forever unmade, but today is was probably because Ed was bouncing up and down like a madman. 

“Mom! Look!” Ed beamed, pulling down the collar on his oversized t-shirt. Curling gracefully across his collarbone were his Words, the mark of his future and soul. 

Trisha had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. 

‘Can I copy your homework?’ was one she had never seen before.

===================

“Mother, what’s a fuck?” Ling looked up, expectant. His parents, both Xingese immigrants, had learned Amestrian fairly quickly, yet is was very clear that his Mother had a better mastery of the language.

Mrs. Yao frowned, thought a moment, then shook her head. She hadn't heard that one before.

“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

Without another word, Ling lifted up his shirt. Wrapping around his entire torso were Words, some Mrs. Yao recognized, but many she didn’t. What did that matter, though, when her son finally had gotten his Words!

Laughing, she hugged her son. Of course he’d be with someone with a big vocabulary. Her goofy, adorable little boy. Whose Words made no sense to either of them… 

Mrs. Yao thought of the nice old man who lived next on the floor below, raising his little granddaughter. He had helped her when she was first learning the language, so he could help her boy with this.

“Let’s ask the neighbor what some of these mean, okay? I’ve never even seen half of these!”

‘What even is a “dick”?’ she wondered, taking her sons hand and walking out the door ‘Is it like a brick?’

=================

“Can I copy your homework?” a pretty girl asked Ed in elementary school. He turned red and stuttered.

“Sure thing, umm… what’s your name?’’ 

The girl didn't answer, already bent of the table, copying down all of his work. She was not the one.

Although he knew that he had gotten all the answers right, Ed didn't feel as satisfied as he usually did. All he could see was the pretty girl in his mind’s eye, saying his Words over and over again.

He moped the rest of the school day. When Ed got home, he told the bedridden Trisha and asked miserably,

“How can someone say my Words, but I can’t say theirs?”

She merely brushed his bangs behind his ears and choked down a cough before answering.

“You know how many times people say ‘Hello’ to you everyday. Unless you have very unusual words,” she thought of her friend Sarah, whose Words were ‘Flying feet are sadly a common danger in this house’, “Then you’re likely to hear your Words from multiple people.”

Ed’s eyes widened. 

“What if their Words are common too? Then how would we know?”

Trisha taps her nose in thought. He had a point…

“Then make sure you have very unique answers to anyone who asks to copy your homework!”

=============

Ling stared at the girl standing alone on the playground. He knew her name was Lan Fan, and that she lived in his apartment complex. They had never spoken a word to each other (despite Old Man Fu and Mrs. Yao being close friends), and Ling wanted to change that. 

Striding over to her, Ling kept his back straight. The other kids said that Lan Fan was like a predator. Any sign of weakness, and she’d steal your soul away with her creepy mask keychain or stab you with her multiple pocket knives. Rude to anyone that crossed her, but strong when people decided to taunt her. He didn't know if the former points were true, but he had seen the latter ones first hand. 

Missionaries didn't come to the apartment complex anymore, after one of them had almost had his head torn off when he said “Girls should wear skirts, not ninja clothes.”

Overall, the perfect candidate to match his words. And if not, then she would be a fun companion!

Taking a deep breath, Ling stuck out his hand.

“My name is Ling Yao, and I want to be friends.” 

Lan Fan blinked. Her jaw was a little loose, and Ling was relieved to see she hadn't reached for a pocket knife.

“What?” she asked, shock making her words blank. Ling deflated a little internally, but smiled brightly and put his arm around Lan Fan’s shoulders. It would be friends after all for them!

“You heard me! We’re friends now.”

“I didn't agree to this!” she fired back, “Now let go of me before I-“

“I know a way into the kitchen where we won’t get caught.” 

“… lead the way, Young Lord Yao.”

Hook, line, and sinker. Ling led her towards the kitchen windows, a real smile slapped silly across his face. 

=========================

Alphonse covered his brothers mouth, before he could cuss out the latest kid to speak those words.

“You can copy mine, please don’t ask my Brother.”

The kid, Al thought his name was Dorchette, sighed in relief.

“Thanks man. If you two didn't do your homework every night, half of the kids in this class alone would be failing.”

Ed pushed Al hand away. He and Dorchette had already talked dammit! And they certainly did not have each other’s fucking stupid Words.

“Sure thing, Dog-boy. Tell Greed he can kiss my ass if he wants to copy my calculus homework again though.”

Jotting down the last problem, Dorchette gave a thumbs up before bouncing back to his seat.

Ed tugged at his braid, but Al pulled his hand away.

“Brother, do you have to be so… violent, about that question now?” Al asked. Ed scowled at him, tapping his pencil against the desk.

“Yes! Every damn day, every damn period, some fucker comes up and asks ‘can I copy your homework?’ and every damn time they aren’t the one! I’m sick of it!”

Al nodded solemnly. He had the same experience in his classes, but at least his Words were ‘Can you help me find my panda?’. Not too many people were able to ask that. And according to the wonderful world of the internet, Xing owned all the pandas in the world, and leased them out to the rest of the world. Al had no intention of ever going there.

Ed sighed, “Did you hear about those new kids? From that school over in Xingtown that closed?”

Al tilts his head, remembering a rumor he heard at lunch. It was far too ridiculous to be true, but it was something to laugh about. Ed certainly would get a kick out of it.

“Didn’t someone say two of them climbed through the window to get to class?”

Ed snorted,

“Right into Mrs. Curtis’ chemistry class. She had a field day.”

==================

Ling thunked his head against his desk. Only one week at this new school, and he had already not done an entire worksheet for Mr. Falman’s calculus class. If he had Mr. Breda, apparently, he could just scribble numbers down in the boxes and that guy would check it off as full credit. Mr. Falman however, actually scored the homework.

Looking around, Ling tried to figure out a way to save himself. There was no way he could do it all before Falman and the Grade-book of Doom (as he had heard it affectionately called) got to his desk. However, he could copy off someone's homework and pray they had the right answers.

In front of him: Denny Brosch, nice guy, but far more interested in romance than academics, if his constant swooning was anything to go by. That and the fact he was thunking his head on the desk, calling himself an idiot made Ling wary.

To the right: Oliver Armstrong. Ling would not ask to copy her homework if it saved the human race. He valued his genitals far too much to have them cut off and buried under wet cement. The horror stories about her far outweighed the rumors about Lan Fan.

Behind him: A punk rock kid with a fur collared vest. His name was either Greg or Reed. Seemed cool, but Ling had seen him in the math study sessions at the library… not a good chance for right answers. Maybe in Literature though, that kid was pretty good at finding the deeper meanings.

To the left: A handsome blond boy, reading what looked like a science magazine. His open backpack had three AP study books. Ling’s safest bet, even if he didn't know the guys name.

Poking the blond’s shoulder, Ling whispered,

“Can I copy your homework?”

The blond stiffened and closed his magazine very slowly. When he looked up, Ling was mesmerized by the golden hue of the boys eyes. Not mesmerized enough however, that he missed the deep inhalation of breath.

It was at that moment Ling remembered a warning he had received his first day. He had been goofing off during the lesson when someone poked him with the sharp end of a pencil. Turning towards whoever did it, Ling saw the punk rock kid.

‘What?’ PRK pointed at the blond, who was diligently copying down the lesson notes.

‘Never ask that kid to copy his homework’ PRK behind him cautioned ‘Not only will it piss him off, he’ll make sure you know he’s pissed’. Ling had said that he wouldn’t, but it seemed he had forgotten in the few days since.

‘Uh oh…’

================

“You mother fuck, fuck you, your mother, father and ten thousand generations before you, you fucking asshole bastard piece of shit, go to the deepest pit of hell and stay there, you asshat, you can suck my fucking dick!” Ed ranted, fists clenched, face red, and bristling. He didn’t care if he was making a scene, he was fucking tired of this! Every single time he got his fucking hopes up, and every single fucking time they were pulled out from under him.

How dare this (admittedly cute) Xingese asshole do that? Ed didn't even know the fuckwads name! Speaking of…

His eyes were wide open, staring at Ed. He almost looked…amazed.

“The fuck are you staring at?”

The fuckwad fired right back,

“You.”

He lifted up his shirt, and Ed recoiled. He did not want to see a strip show in the middle of Falman’s math class. Especially not from that fuck. But when Ed looked closer, his heart stopped. His rant, word for word, spiraled around the boy’s torso. ‘My Words’.

An errant part of Ed’s mind snickered ‘Bet he had a fun childhood’. Shaking it away, Ed pulled down his t-shirt collar a bit. Just enough to show the boy his Words, but still cover up his scars. ‘His Words’. 

Ed had finally found the Keeper of his Words. His true love. His soulmate. Lover. It was a beautiful moment, one of the most important of his life! Their lives! Their! He could die tomorrow and- 

“So can I copy?” And the beautiful moment was down the metaphorical drain. Ed groaned and slid his sheet over. He had all the right answers, as usual. 

It is entirely not his fault when Denny “falls” out of his chair from cheering too much. Or when Greed got a large bruise after saying ‘First comes words, then comes marriage and babies in a carriage’. Never his fault.

And Ed certainly did not smile at the note written at the bottom of his worksheet when he got it back. He was grimacing at Falman’s admonishment of his distracting the class. 

‘Meet me after school’

============

Ling waited outside the school for ages, waiting for his Wordkeeper to come out. Lan Fan had already left him, saying she had too much homework to babysit him, but to be back in Xingtown by 7:30 pm or she’d tie him to his bed. He had no doubt that she would.

Lan Fan was quite the overprotective kind of friend, and Ling wouldn't have it any other way. The best part about coming here (besides meeting his own soulmate!) was that she could have a new start. She didn't deserve the rumors spread about her at their old school.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the blond boy standing in front of him. After a few moments the Blond coughed loudly.

“Well, Mooch? What do you want?” the Blond asked. Ling jumped, startled. He must be really out of it if someone could sneak up on him. He rubbed the back of his neck before asking,

“Do you want to get coffee or something?”

That was so awkward, that the Blond was probably going to walk away and avoid Ling for the rest of their days and then Ling would do that weird thing sad people did and get his Words remov-

“Sure.”

Wait, what? Ling laughed a little before hugging the Blond. He was so happy! So, so, so happy! He could kiss the other right now, but it was far too soon for that.

“Thank you! Thank you…what’s your name?” Ling asked, hyper aware of how absolutely horrible it was that he didn't even know his soul mates name. He was going to screw this up, he knew it!

“Edward Elric, and ge’off me you fucker!” The Blond (Ed, Ling corrected) pushed Ling away “And what’s yours? I can’t call you mooch or fucker forever, ya know.”

“Ling Yao, although I do have a friend that calls me Young Lord,” Ling babbled. What if Ed didn't like babbling? Or how much Ling ate on a daily basis (would he have to go on a diet?!)? As much as Ling liked to indulge in life, he just couldn't stop worrying. Ed snapped his fingers in front of Lings’ face.

“Earth to Ling. Do you know any coffee places around here yet?” 

“Not at all,” Ling admitted. He knew Xingtown (and its roofs) like the back of his hand. He needed more time to map out the East-Central High School area on the other hand. Too bad the teachers here actually cared when students were absent, otherwise he could already have found five coffee places, ten restaurants, and three drug dens. Not that he’d ever go to one, but so he’d know the areas to avoid. 

“Hmph. Le Faucon Yeux Café is pretty good, and I know the owner, so I have a ‘Friends and Family’ discount.” Ed broke Ling out of his mind ramble again, shifting his weight onto his right side.

Ling laughed. He was doing that a lot today. But for good reason of course!

“You’ll need it for me, my heart!” he sang, draping his arm over Ed's shoulder. It was interesting to see a human being turn as red as Ed did at that moment.

“Who said I was paying?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did this happen?  
> I wanted some cute and fluffy Edling, and this has turned into sad back stories and problems.  
> At least there'll be more chapters after this, right?

‘There are three stages of life: innocence, disillusionment, and ignorance. The myth of-‘

“Yo!” Ling chimed from Eds window. “Are you busy?”

“Argh!” Ed twisted a bit in his wheely-desk chair, almost hitting his laptop, “The hell?!”

“Is that any way to talk to your soulmate?” 

Ling smoothly slid all the way into the room, dopey smile plastered brightly on his face. 

Ed didn't know whether he wanted to smack or kiss that smile. Wait. No. Do not think about kissing yet. Bad Ed. Kissing was to be saved for a later date, a much later date, just in case the whole Word thing didn't work out.

Either way, he wouldn't have to see that stupid (adorable) smile.

“I wanted to see you!” Ling grabbed Eds hand, almost knocking over some of the strange statuettes clustered on the desk. 

The one he did upset enough to wobble, he righted right away. Ed ignored the pleased feeling that rose in his stomach and snapped. 

“At 11:30? By climbing through my fucking window?”

Ling pouted and looked up at Ed.

He had never seen Lings kicked puppy face before, and he had no idea that it was on par with Als. Fuck.

Without a further thought, Ed leaned in and pecked Lings cheek. Pecking was not kissing. Pecking was safe, more familiar than romantic.

“Dork,” he sighed.

“Your dork,” Ling fired back.

Ed snorted and leaned back in his chair. He was suddenly hyper aware of the sorry state of the room. 

His bed was a mess of sheets and blankets, and the pillows were scattered around the floor, and, oh fuck, he still had fucking dragon patterned sheets, why the utter hell had he not changed them?!

Up against the left and back wall were several ceiling tall shelves, crammed with books. There was mostly science stuff, like physics and chemistry. A fair amount of rocketry books were sprinkled in, as well as a large number of cheesy romances.

In his defense, those had been gifts from Al. To “expand his interests” as his brother said. 

‘More like embarrass me if I ever let someone into my room,’ Ed thought resentfully. 

Then there were his walls, where it was impossible to see the white coat of paint underneath a large collection of posters and pictures. Some of them were of ancient weapons. Others were anatomy posters (blame Winry), and occasionally family pictures showed through the gaps.

There was so much stuff in his room, and hardly any of it made Ed seem like a good match for Ling. 

Ling, the boy who was such a dork that he held his eyes open when people said “Keep an eye out.”

He just couldn't believe that this goofy Xingese boy was his match. Ed was too bitter and angry. There was nothing about him that Ling could possibly like! Let alone-

“I like your pajamas,” Ling said, nuzzling into Eds neck.

Ed looked down, and couldn't help but curse. Fate hated him, so much. He was wearing the button up technicolor cat pajamas that Al had given him ages ago. Yet another “gift”. Pink, red, gold, green, white, blue, all colors of cats sprawled across a black background. 

At least it had long sleeves. Ed did not want to show Ling that, just yet.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. These pajamas were going to be the first thing in the fireplace once it was cold enough, Ed decided.

Ling pulled back from his nuzzling and pulled Eds wheely-desk seat close to the bed. He sat down on it and patted the spot next to him. Ed raised his eyebrow and ignored the invite.

“They’re not as cute as you though,” Ling teased. The hand wrapped around Eds clenched tightly. But it wasn’t uncomfortable, in fact, it felt nice. 

“So why are you still up?” Ling asked.

Ed groaned dramatically and gestured at his laptop.

“I need to write an essay on the Western Philosopher. Ms. Ross said it would be extra credit at this point for me, but I still want to put effort into it.”

Ling perked up.

“That’s my favorite story!” he beamed, leaning a bit so he could read the pathetic sentence(s?) Ed had typed.

“That story’s always pissed me off,” Ed said, “In the end, the guy could've finally had a happy ending after all the bullshit he went through. But no, he abandoned his wife and sons. And for what? A stupid riddle about a fucking red rock!”

Without hesitating, Ling began to recite:

“A sacred stone, made from bone, stolen life and stolen youth, the color of the blood of Truth. The Devils heart and Gods eye, what am I?”

Ed nodded and swatted at the air.

“What does that even mean? I don’t think that’s worth abandoning your family,” Ed whined. He finally got out of his chair and sat next to Ling. He shifted a bit before flopping down onto his back, pulling Ling down with him. Ling scooted closer to Ed, humming a bit.

“I think you're looking at this the wrong way. While he did leave his family, the Philosopher of the West had seen and done so much. It probably meant something awful to him.”

Ed poked Ling in the side as best he could.

“It’s too late to be deep,” he declared. Rolling a bit so he could face Ling, Ed couldn't stop his earlier thoughts from returning. 

Ling could never love him. He should never love Ed.

Whoever decided the Words must have a terrible sense of humor. If it was Fate, then it wasn't humor. It was some sort of punishment. Anyone who was happy around Ed was always dragged down into abject misery. There were so, so many people.

The Rockbells had been shattered. Uncle Yuri and Aunt Sarah were murdered after dropping Al and him off at daycare. Pinako and Winry had never blamed them, but the thought had to be there! Horrible.

His Mother had been such an angel, and she died of a horrible sickness with no name. The last of her strength had been spent comforting Ed, when Al needed the comfort so much more. Selfish.

His Brother? Ed hated to even think about what he had done… It was Eds fault that “The Event” had occurred. Al lost so much life for such a long time… Stupid.

Greed, the only kid that had approached Ed within months after “The Event”, he had been kicked out of his own home. Now he bounced between his various friends houses, all of his belongings packed neatly into one suitcase. Destructive.

Ed could only wonder how he could screw Ling over. He always fucked peoples live up, especially those who cared for him. He hadn't known Ling for that long, but he knew that Ling didn't deserve Eds goddamned curse!

Almost as if he sensed Eds thoughts, Ling flipped so he could face Ed as well and kissed him. On the lips. 

What the fuck?

They had always kissed each others cheeks or noses, safe spots that anyone could kiss. Lips had always been the unspoken “DO NOT DO”. 

But there were Lings lips (chapped and warm) pressed chastely against Eds (hard and cold). It was a shock to Eds system, chasing every coherent thought out of his head. His heart stuttered to a stop for an eternity, never to start back up again it seemed.

Ling was actually (finally) kissing him!

He knew that kisses were supposed to go two ways, but sex ed didn't really teach kids how to kiss! They barely even talked about contraceptive options. Ed was a fish out of water, and he couldn't even muster up the courage to press his lips back!

Eventually, Ling pulled back with a soft smile, and his heart restarted. Ed could only stare. It was already over, their first kiss was over, and he hadn't done anything! 

“Get some sleep,” Ling whispered gently. 

“Dope-face,” Ed whispered back.

“Your dope-face,” Ling swiped his free thumb over Eds cheek. Smiling, Ed leaned in and pecked Ling on the cheek. He would eventually kiss him on the lips, but not yet. Preferably not for a long time.

The pair fell asleep within minutes.

=================

Alphonse eased his brothers door open, careful not to let a single creak echo across the room. When Ed had given Al permission to wake him up by any means necessary, he had forgotten that Satan had “blessed” the entire family Elric.

Frying pans were one of Als favorite methods, although an air horn would make Ed jump at least a foot. Holding the weapons of choice far apart, he opened his mouth-

And promptly let the pans fall to his sides. 

Ed was snuggling.

More than that, Ed was snuggling with Ling. 

Even though they had each others Words, this was the very first time he had seen the two show physical affection. Not for lack for trying on Lings part. Al had seen very many of Lings “hug attacks”, and every one of them had failed. Every one had ended with Ed scowling, upset, and angry.

Now Ed looked content and, dare Al say it, happy. His brother hadn't been truly happy in years, not since… even before “The Event”.

Slowly backing out of the room, Al tried to remember where his phone was. He needed to get a picture of this. Still deep in thought, he walked on tiptoe towards his room.

Between “The Event” and meeting Ling, Ed had been reserved. He never opened up about his feelings, or he buried them under layers of anger. He hated being touched, and never touched others. Not even Al. He refused to touch Al. But since Ed met Ling, he had ruffled Als hair no less than three times! It was heavenly. 

Al was happy for his brother, because his brother was happier.

Picking up his phone from between a couple of cat plushies, Al made his way back to Eds room. Peeking in, he held up his phone and fiddled with the thing so it would focus. 

Once it did, he had to cover his mouth. 

Ed, wearing the set of cat pj’s Al had gotten him, had his face pressed into Lings chest and his arms wrapped around the other boys middle. Ling’s arms were wrapped around his neck, and his head rested on Eds crown. All in all, pretty high on the adorable scale. Possibly cuter than a new born kitten!

He clicked the button and closed the door. Opening up his phone again, messaged the picture to Winry. 

He had told her about Ling, even if Ed hadn’t. Al doubted that he had told her even now. Oh God. Al did not want to see the fallout of that when Winry came back from her studies in Rush Valley.

Her reply came in an instant:

‘AWWWWWW’  
‘ikr?’  
‘Send it to Granny’  
‘She dsnt hv mssngr!’  
‘+she rfses to txt!’  
‘I’ll find a way’  
‘Dka'  
‘What?’  
‘D O N T K I L L A N Y O N E’  
‘Spoilsport. And learn to type.  
GTG, I have an appointment with Mr Dominics new accountant’  
‘Hve fun’  
‘UGH I SHOULD NOT HAVE ADULT RESPONSIBILITIES YET.  
And tell Ed i said hi.’  
‘I will‘  
‘HUZZAH YOU USED PROPER GRAMMAR’  
‘:(  
OFFENDED’  
‘:| grow a pair’  
‘lol. Bi bi’  
‘Is that a pun?  
IF SO I can crush you with puns you little pan boy  
Al?  
Alphonse?  
ALPHONSE ELRIC  
Since I have an android I can’t tell if youve seen these  
Peopke say Eds the bad one, but ur evil  
Good day Mr. Elric’

Al nearly shook with laughter as he closed his phone. Winry was awesome. It must be the indomitable Rockbell genetics… wait. Indomitable. 

There was another indomitable woman that the Elrics knew quite well.

Al paled. He had been so wrapped up in keeping Winry updated that he had forgotten…

There was no way Ed had told…

And not even a tag of Ed and Ling on social media together, to lessen the shock per say…

They were going to die.

Izumi Curtis. Currently the high schools best chemistry teacher, formerly Ed and Als baby sitter. Some people referred to her as the Elrics surrogate mother. A slight romantic at heart, she demanded to be kept in the loop of their lives. Martial arts were often (always) involved in reminding the boys of that. The scariest woman alive. 

Words were a major thing to be kept out of the loop about.

How much do funerals for two cost? That was, if anything would be left.

============

Riza Hawkeye was tired. Not unusual, considering she owned the only coffee shop within walking distance of the high school, but the date sapped the energy out of her very bones.

“You know the day, if not the year you meet your One,” Rebecca had crooned to her last year. They had both gotten sloppy drunk on her living room floor instead of gong out like they usually did. “I mean, ‘Well, Happy Birthday to you ma’am, but I do believe I have your Words’ is uniquer than a butt ton of people get.”

But it was not happy for Riza. She had seen cheap soul mates before, where one cared more than the other. Riza was too devoted to accept that, and she would refuse anyone who didn’t return it in equal measure.

She wanted someone dependable and affectionate. Sweet and brave. A quality person!

Someone she could follow into heaven or hell. Hell seemed more likely anyway, if you went by the towns church crazies. They loved to pester her a lot, and did so more every year she got older. Because birthdays were a marriage countdown for them. The sooner the better. 

Riza shook her head. It was not time to fall into what she had dubbed “The Birthday Pit”. It was 6:30 on a Monday morning, which meant-

The door slammed open, bypassing the tiny bell entirely. A blond hurricane whirled its way in, babbling. To anyone else it would have sounded like a mesh of words, but Riza understood it.

“Mornin’ Hawkeye!” Ed shouted. The hurricane waved at her a bit frantically. “Happy birthday and stuff, can I get a black coffee with like… half a cup of sugar? I can’t crash now, I need to deal with motherfucking Mustang! He has like, ten assignments due today.”

Riza took one look at the bags under Eds eyes and asked,

“How many Red Bulls did you drink this weekend?”

Ed paused and counted out on his fingers before shrugging. That was a very bad sign. Once he had walked into her cafe practically buzzing, then five minutes later she had to call Alphonse to come drag him to the school. If Riza regretted anything from her teenage years, it wasn't the fact that she had kept a solid bedtime.

“I lost count around ten. I needed to finish all my assignments though, so I have an excuse.’’

Riza looked at her various coffee pots, considering what damage would happen if she gave the boy decaf. He would probably break something in a fit of caffeine withdraw.

But if she poisoned him with caffeine, she’d regret it for the rest of her days. And the sugar would certainly kill him.

Ice cold water it is.

“So how are you?” Hurricane Ed babbled, sitting on one of the counter stools. Riza shrugged.

“Not good, not bad. Tired mostly.”

Ed nodded. He had seen her Words one day when she had taken off her jacket, and the two had bonded over their crummy situation. 

“So how are things with Ling?” she asked. Riza had been one of the first ones to meet Ling, and she still hadn’t passed judgement. The other boy had been polite to her, but something about him rubbed Riza the wrong way. Maybe that was her protective streak, maybe not.

Ed thunked his head on the counter.

“He is such a dork, I hate how he manages to get under my skin, I don’t understand his need to cuddle everyday, I know I’m going to fuck this up, I always-“

“Breathe.”

Ed glared up at her and took an exaggerated breath. Riza put the glass of water down in front of him and tapped his ear.

“I want you to listen to me, Edward Elric. This will not be easy. All relationships have ups and downs, and it’s up to you to stick with them. But you are not the only person experiencing them. Ling is there too, and he probably feels the same.”

Ed snorted, but Riza went on. He needed to hear this, even if he didn't want to.

“He is confused, worried, and freaking out, because Edward Elric is his soulmate. Intelligent, strong, and rather kind Ed. He’s probably asking himself what he did to deserve you.”

There was silence a moment. Ed stared at the condensation on the glass, and Riza wiped at the counter. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t know what to say. She was most likely right, but it was impossible for her to be right.

Ling was Ling; he was amazing, even if he got on Eds nerves at times. He was confident and strong.

‘Cute too,’ his mind supplied. Where the hell did that come from? Ed did not do cute, that was Al. Ed did cool, badass, etc. His mind needed to get its shit together.

“It’s 7:06,” Riza pointed out. “Doesn’t school start at 7:15?”

They both knew quite well what time school started, and that it was a ten minute walk. Possibly a six minute sprint.

“Fuck!”

Ed jumped up and ran out the cafe. He always did shit like this when he zoned out! 

“I’ll be back later, thanks for the talk and stuff!”

Riza shook her head. Ed hadn't even taken a sip of his water. 

“Silly boy.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a plot in the making????? What.   
> And I'm sorry if there's OoC stuff. I'm trying, I really am! Anyway... enjoy!

"Elric, please explain to the class the meaning of this equation!" Mr. Breda shouted for the third time.

Al didn't even look up from his book until Martel jabbed him.

"Oh, sorry Mr. Breda, did you say something?"

The class twittered. It was no secret that the Elrics preferred to read during class, but it didn't make it any less funny when they were caught. Once a teacher had tried to punish Ed for reading, and that had not ended well for either party. Since then, most of the teachers had given up.

Mr. Breda smacked his ruler down on the desk. The loud CRACK silenced the class.

"Now then. Alphonse, for the love of all that's holy, explain the equation on the board."

Al grinned sheepishly and put his book away. Sometimes class was more important than romance. 

"Well Sir, the equation is-" Someone near Al coughed "bullshit", but he went on, "a quadratic. The solution is-"

"Thank you Alphonse," Mr. Breda up his hand. "You proved my point to the class."

Al smiled and pulled out his book again. He was probably pointing out that the equation had a name, not just another thing students had to do to graduate.

Mr. Breda always had a way to make points fun. One memorable occasion had been "If two idiots are meant to be, but refuse to talk to one another just in case they aren't, it is the moral duty of a mutual friend to lock them in a closet together."

Mr. Havoc had nearly strangled Mr. Breda that day, but he restrained himself in front of the kids.

Six months later he and Mr. Fuery were going steady. Mr. Breda even ordered flowers for their upcoming anniversary! Mr. Havoc still muttered threats in the hallway, but they were more good natured.

Who could ever say math was boring? With a teacher like Mr. Breda, it was always fun. He could sniff out a good time if it was covered in mud and blood!

Martel tapped her pen on Al's book. When she saw she had his attention, she leaned in.

“Is it true that Ed met his soulmate?” Martel whispered. It took all of Al's willpower not to groan. If Martel had heard, then what was to stop Izumi “Killed A Man in ‘93” Curtis from hearing? 

“Yeah. A guy named Ling Yao.”

Martel snorted. Al looked at her hands as she made little gestures; her snake-like fingers made little waves through the air.

“Figures it’d be a guy. Once it becomes well known, a lot of girls dreams will be crushed.”

Al could agree to that. Ed didn't realize it, but he was quite the Knight in Shining Armor to the freshman population of the high school. Envy had never stood a chance, not when faced with a rage machine that was his brother.

That's what happens when you beat the schools worst bully at their own game. Envy had never stood a chance, not when faced with a rage machine that was his brother.

“So the Edward has a boyfriend?” a cold voice drawled behind Al.

If it took all of his willpower not to sigh. Al really did not want to deal with this "someone". Zolf J. Kimblee sat right behind him, but rarely talked. It was a small blessing, but it seemed to have worn off today. Fantastic.

When Ed and Al first came to the highschool, he had seemed an okay person, if strange. They'd have lunch together and goof off. Almost to the point of being friends.

Then “The Event” happened. When Al heard what Kimblee had been up too during that time, he wanted to punch him so badly. No one was allowed to make his brother miserable, no one!

Since then, the relationship between the three had gone straight to the sewers. The only truce they had was the truce of indifference. If Kimblee was interested now, it was a bad sign.

Martel's eyes flashed as she turned around. Al refused to even tilt his head in Kimblees direction.

“Fuck off," she snapped. She knew full well what Kimblee was capable of, but unlike many others, she had no qualms about kicking him back to his place.

Martel, in his brothers words, was "fucking awesome".

Kimblee raised his hands innocently. There were dozens of doodles there, many of them frankly disturbing.

"I was simply curious, no need to be so hostile. It's rather good that Edward is connecting with someone."

Martels eyes narrowed, and Al felt like hiding under his desk before a bomb went off. Even if Kimblee was evil, he didn't yet deserve a pissed off Martel on his back.

"Why would you care?"

Al felt Kimblee lean over his desk and whisper,

"Because I know a certain someone who plans to wreck it all."

The ominous way Kimblee said it was enough to make Al turn around. When he saw the gleam in Kimblees eyes, his blood ran cold. Kimblee only got that gleam whenever something bad was about to go down. The last time Al had seen it, it had been when Barry Choppin had been expelled for stabbing his girlfriend during lunch. Afterwords, Kimblee had called it a waste of a good pen. The girlfriend was in the hospital for ages, and Barry went to juvie.

"Who?" Al asked. He struggled to keep his face blank as a grin grew across Kimblees face. Don't ever let the predator know you're afraid, or they'll pounce in an instant.

"A certain Palm Tree with a grudge. Tell Edward to watch his back, and his boyfriends."  
"Is there anything you're contributing to the class, Zolf?" Mr. Breda looked down Al's row with a frown. He knew exactly what the relationship between the Elrics and Kimblee was like, and tried to avoid confrontations between them at all costs.

"None, Mr. Breda. Please go on with this extremely interesting review," Kimblee drawled.

Mr. Breda didn't look impressed, but turned away. Al twisted back around. So Envy was planning something. That wasn't new, but it was tedious. Add in a new relationship...

Al's stomach twisted. Envy could ruin it. Envy could potentially ruin his brothers happiness. They'd ruined so many greater things for both brothers, that it would be easy to mess this up.

He couldn't even look at his book now.  
=======  
Lan Fan climbed up the gym rope, fast as a chipmunk. Today was PT day, and that meant twelve stations. Her little sheet was almost done. All that was left was the Pacer Test and rope climbing.

She tapped the bell at the top of the rope and slid down. Mr. Havoc looked impressed as he recorded the time.

"You have ten minutes before I start up the Pacer," he said, chewing on his pen. Outside of school it'd be a cigarette, but inside he restrained himself. He whined a lot though whenever it was brought up...

Lan Fan nodded and walked to the water fountain. She was tired, but she was doing better than some kids. A big muscly one named Roa nearly screamed during the flexibility test. Another kid, Bido, wasn't even able to do ten pushups. They were on the climbing rope now too. Bido actually wasn't that bad, but Roa seemed to be struggling.

'Not my problem,' Lan Fan thought. Her only concern was keeping an eye on a certain greedy piece of junk. And, speak of the devil, he was leaning against the water fountain.

She did not like him. She did not like the way he lorded down the halls, his horrible clothes, or his spiky hair. She did not like his little posse of friends. She did not like that he decided to sit with Ling at lunch, or sat by him in classes that they shared. She did not like Ling letting Greed get so close, or considering the offers to go party.

Lan Fan did not like Greed, because he would be a terrible influence on Ling. He could take advantage of Ling and his devotion. The only reason she could tolerate Lings "soulmate" was the fact that there was proof of mutuality. Greed was no good.

"Hello, darling," the greedy jerk drawled.

"I am no ones darling," Lan Fan grumbled. She bent over the fountain, ignoring the feel of his eyes on her.

"Suppose not," he hummed. "It doesn't mean you don't look like one."

She gripped the edge of the fountain hard enough that she heard her knuckles creak. He was trying her limited patience.

"What does that mean, exactly?" 

She just knew the greedy jerk was smirking, she knew it like she knew her grandfathers name was Fu. If she wouldn't get in trouble, she would punch him. But with the reaction she and Ling had received by climbing in the window, she doubted that punching would be looked favorably upon.

So she settled on standing back up and glaring. He was smirking.

"It means that you're pretty..." Lan Fan bared her teeth, sensing where this was going, "but also intimidating once someone gets to know you."

That was not what she was expecting. Was he trying to work an angle?

Lan Fan watched as Greed walked over to Roa and Bido. He gave a jaunty wave over his shoulder.

"Have a nice day Lan Fan."

It was then that she decided Greed was not only going to annoy her, but confuse her as well.

Mr. Havoc blew his whistle and wheeled into the middle of the gym floor.

"Next up is the much beloved Pacer test! If you need it explained, listen to the disk. Everyone go stand on the blue line!"

He rolled off to the side as the class congealed on the line. Lan Fan ended up squashed between Roa and a blonde girl with a weird curl and a resting bitch face. She tapped her foot on the floor, worn sneakers flashing in the florescent lights.

Mr. Havoc held up an old CD player.

"Ready kids?"

Down the line Greed shouted

"Ay ay Captain!"

Most of the class laughed at the reference, and Mr. Havoc gave Greed a salute. In the same tune as the theme song he sang before smashing the button.

"Oooooooo, let's get this over with and be done!"

A horrible voice crackled out from the speakers, droll and bland. If Lan Fan closed her eyes, she would be able to picture herself in fourth grade, running the Pacer. It was the exact same voice as the first time.

"The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal." 

There was a soft trilling beep. Lan Fan shifted into a running stance.

"A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. "

A harsher beep this time. The students shuffled around, tension rising. Not even Greed was making cracks. This is what the Pacer does to people, Lan Fan thought. They became animals trapped in a cage. The only key to freedom was running.

"Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start."

They jogged down the gym, bunched together. The blonde girl was a couple of paces in front of everyone else, and Greed a couple of paces behind. That didn't stop the elbows pressing into Lan Fans sides.

'The music is terrible,' Lan Fan thought. It sounded like something from one of those seventies porn things her old neighbor would watch, turned all the way up. No matter how many times her grandfather told the old woman that there were children in the complex, the lady would still be loud. It wasn't pleasant to think about.

The beeps were harsh in her ears. Only one thought was going through her head. Beat yourself, and yourself alone.

Other kids were sprinting ahead and losing their steam by the twentieth lap. By forty half the class was gone. By sixty only Lan Fan, blondy, and Bido were left. They stayed that way for five, ten, twenty, forty more laps! Bido gave out at 109, dragging himself to the edge of the gym.

"Beat the disc!" he cheered when they passed by him again. Lan Fan planned to. She had failed last year, but she would do it this time.

The blonde girl seemed indifferent to the challenge, but she did increase her pace during the next lap. They were neck in neck to each other.

It felt like moments later when Mr. Havoc blew his whistle, but Lan Fan was grateful. A stitch had developed in her side five laps ago, and it was distracting. The blonde girl didn't seem too happy though.

"Why have you stopped it?" She demanded. Mr. Havoc blinked.

"You two beat the disc. It stopped itself. Congrats Armstrong, Lan Fan," he said slowly. Armstrong scowled, but grabbed her paper.

"The disc should be longer," she grumbled to Lan Fan. 

Lan Fan shrugged, not saying anything. She didn't agree with Armstrong, but she saw her point. It would be nice to know how much farther she could run.

Mr. Havoc rolled in front of everyone.

"Everyone go change, good job y'all on your accomplishments today!"

He smiled at everyone, his pen sticking out of the corner of his mouth. Lan Fan started to walk towards the girls locker room when the teacher called out her name.

"Yes sir?"

He put his hand up on her shoulder.

"Can you see me after school? I want to talk to you about school sports."  
=========  
Ling fiddled with his pencil, staring at nothing. He was supposed to be reviewing for his upcoming history test, but his mind was on Ed. To be honest, that was where it was most of the time. He couldn’t help it! 

They had met each other just a bit ago, and had only one "date" in that time. That was it. Ling wanted to go out on another, but where? Xingtowns restaurants catered mainly to tourists or workers. He did not want to bring Ed there for a date! 

A date deserved class and respect; a place with nice atmosphere but cheap enough not to need to split the check. Ling also would not forget his wallet! That would be bad. It was pure chance that he had enough money to get a coffee last time, he did not want to repeat that panic.

But the area around the high school was still unmapped for him. The only place he knew was the cafe Ed had picked. It was on Ling this time to figure out a place, at least he thought it was. That would be fair.

He was tempted to start talking to the kid next to him, just to blow off some steam. But the kid was going over his notes pretty diligently so Ling let him be. Lan Fan was probably still in PE, so he couldn't text her under the table. Ed had point blank told him, "If you text me in class I will find wherever you are and smack you." And the thought of texting Mei was frightening. The last text he had from her was a picture of a knife with a caption that should never be repeated. She hated him, so much.

'That's what happens when you have the same father but different mothers,' a voice whispered in his mind. He promptly shut the voice down. This was not the time for that spiral, nor was it ever the time. 

Ling really needed to study for the test. But when he picked up his notes to try again, his thoughts went back to Ed. Golden, enchanting Ed.

'He is the perfect human,' Ling thought. And he truly was! Ed was perfect in his humanness. He was beautiful inside, and handsome on the outside. It was a lovely combination held together by a fiery temper and sheer genius. Ling would give anything to be able to keep up with him.

He could only hope Ed could feel the same, even if they were soulmates. The ultimate devastation a person could go through was the rejection of their soulmate. He had seen that up close and personal before, and he shuddered in memory of it. 

A paper ball flew by Lings head, nearly grazing his ear. It landed nearly on the edge of his desk. When he turned around, he couldn't see who had thrown it. Everyone had their heads bent down over their notes. Ling de-crumpled the ball and saw a short note.

'Dear New Student,  
You are invited to participate in the fencing club. Please come, it starts an hour before school every day in the Aux Gym. We have cookies if that sweetens the deal.  
Please, we have two people and one's graduating this year.  
Sincerely,  
A very desperate freshman'

Ling stared at the note for a moment. Fencing? He had never considered picking it up before. His old school had a team, but they cut it the year he got there. 

The bell rang, letting loose a flurry of movement as kids packed up. He gave one last look around to see who threw the note, but he still couldn't tell.

'This should be fun,' he thought. He would go to one meeting. He could even get Ed to come with him! It wouldn't be a date, but bonding was always good for a relationship. And what better way to bond than to fight? Fighting was one of the most ancient methods of seduction, according to his mother. 

Ling stuffed his unused notes into his binder. He’d probably pull an all nighter to study. Scratch that, he would pull an all nighter. The teacher had been pretty adamant at the beginning of the study session that this was a very important test. 

A beautiful ray of realization broke through Lings mind, illuminating a brilliant thought. The internet could help him find a date place! There were plenty of reviews and stuff that could help him pick. 

He smiled on his way down to his Literature class. It was possible to be a good soulmate!

A person ran into him, but pushed him aside roughly.

"Watch where you're going," he (?) snapped. The person was the perfect example of androgynous, so Ling couldn't even hazard a guess.

"My apologies, please forgive me."

They narrowed their eyes. The air filled with a tension that made the hairs on the back of Lings neck rise. He was no stranger to fights, not only at school but in his apartment complex, and this kid was looking for one.

The kid looked at him for a long moment before turning away.

Well that was weird. Ling hoped that he hadn't just found his stereotypical nemesis. That would suck worse than a broken vacuum cleaner. The warning bell buzzed above his head, reminding him exactly where he was.

Ling sprinted down the hallway. He dodged a trashcan (or was it Greed? He couldn't tell) and leaped down the stairs. Ling was many things, but he refused to be the late kid. He'd be the mooch or goofball, but not the late one.

 

In the distance, he could see Room 520. The teacher (Ling could not remember his name) always closed the door thirty seconds before the bell. When someone asked him why he did that, the teacher had said, “It takes forty seconds to set up, and if you're not set up, you are late. The door represents that lateness just like-” the teacher then began his lesson on symbolism in the book they were reading.

He was ten paces away when the door began to close. 

A loud pterodactyl screech tore out of his throat, and to his joy the door paused. Ling grabbed the doorway and launched himself inside. The teacher (Mr. Mustang his mind finally supplied) blinked at him once. Then twice.

“Sit down.”

Ling sighed in relief and went to his desk in the back. His punctual goofball status was secure.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be the first to say I have no idea how medical stuff works. Everything I know comes from three things.  
> 1\. My Health Textbook  
> 2\. The internet  
> 3\. Other fanfics  
> If any inaccuracies rankle you, tell me so I can fix it in the future.  
> ALSO Greed loves pineapple pizza and if you say otherwise, for shame.

‘I am a thirty year old at the mercy of teenagers,’ Roy despaired in his mind. When he had decided to become a teacher, he had hoped to change these kids lives, like his teacher Mr. Hawkeye had when he was young. He owed that man so much. But these kids? They were wearing away at his last nerve. They were just so stupid! 

Roy had laid down his ground rules on the very first day: only blue or black pen for assignments, free talk was only allowed when he wasn’t addressing the class, and for the love of god-

“Who else needs notebook paper?”

Ten hands, easy, went up. Roy forced his grimace into the semblance of a smile and handed out the sheets of paper. Just another few decades of this torture and thankless bullcrap. Then he could retire in Aerugo, open up a bar, and never have to decipher terrible handwriting again.

“Mr. Mustbang,” he heard pair of girls twitter near the back. And no more terrible nicknames either. The pains of being the “hot” teacher were great and many; not even the extra candy on holidays could make up for the amorous advances of students.

At least the Yao kid had settled down, probably unsettled from almost being late. He could rile up the class in an instant, but he was not the worst one. No, the worst student in this class, without a doubt, was Alex Louis Armstrong.

“Mr. Mustang,” the muscly boy boomed,” Which chapter of this glorious novel are we going to analyze today?”

“Three, Alex. Three.”

It wasn’t like the kid wasn’t smart, he had A’s straighter than a ruler, but he was eccentric bordering on the point of insanity. How and why a kid would talk like Armstrong was beyond Roy. The boy still wore light up sneakers for godsake!

Alex opened up the book and read the chapter title aloud.

“‘A Horrendous Birthday’? How could a birthday be horrendous Mr. Mustang?! Why,” cue a classwide groan, “generations of the Armstrong line,” several heads thunked against their desks, “have treated birthdays with the up most care and respect! They are symbols-”

Roy slowly sank down into an empty desk as Alex waxed on about his families illustrious history with birthdays. The kid sitting in the desk next to him seemed to have just started to read the chapter.

‘I told them it was not to be read in class,’ he thought. The sad part was that he wasn’t even surprised. At least two kids hadn’t even started to read the book, those damn-

Aerugo. Think about Aerugo before you think about setting the entire building on fire.

Roy was tired. After school he would go get a cup of coffee. The brief fantasy of caffeine gave him enough energy to cut Alex off.

“Today’s a lazy day. I just want a list of the vocab you don’t understand and their definitions. Turn it in at the end of the period,” he explained carefully. It was a cut and dry assignment so there shouldn’t be any questions.

And a hand went up. Of course it did. Because he taught a class of morons. Think of Aerugo and the nice bar waiting to exist. 

“How do you want it formatted Mr. Mustang?” He closed his eyes so the kids wouldn’t see his eye twitching. They annoyed him to no end, but they would worry if they saw a twitch. 

“A list please.”

Did they student not hear him when he said that he wanted a list? It physically hurt to keep his smile genuine as the kids said thanks. Just a few more decades, then he could have his bar where both beautiful women and men worked. His soulmate would be there too, by then. Roy could only hope that they were better at paperwork than he was, because he was literally going to drown in papers soon if there was no physical intervention. He knew he should’ve graded those papers sooner… but it was so much work.

At least no more hands went up, thank god. He did one last glance around to make sure no one was doing anything illegal. You never know, once he had caught someone sticking a needle in their arm, and it had been anything but medicinal. 

Roy sat down at his desk.

“You can listen to music if you want, but keep it at a low level.”

The chorus of thanks you lightened his heart a bit. Even if the job was thankless 98% of the time, it was nice during the rest of the 2%. The kids were so happy, just because they could listen to music. A quiet mummer filled the air, covering up any conversations that had begun. The pop danced through the classic rock, the duo twisting together through someones video game theme. A bawdy country song providing a thumping bass line to it all.

Roys class was a symphony of unparalleled grandeur, and he was the conductor. A tiny portion of his mind called to cut off the songs that weren’t school appropriate, but that would remove the spice from the symphony. School appropriate was synonymous with prudish anyhow. Allowing a little rebellion against the system lead to sharp, innovative minds. Roy believed with all his heart that students needed to learn to toe the line if they wanted to make something of themselves.

This was not the time for philsophy, Roy shook his head at himself. It was time to grade the stack of papers on his desk. Technically he could fully switch over to online grading, but paper felt better under his hands. Plus it was more satisfying to see the blood drain out of the little shits faces when they saw essays drenched in bright red ink.

The stack wasn’t only for his Literature class, no that would be too easy. Roy also taught Debate and Advanced Debate, which meant… work. So much miserable work. Think of Aerugo, and liquor. Think of the liquor that’s damn near impossible to get in Amestris. He chanted it in his mind as he pulled the first papers off of the stack.

It was a speech with the heading:

Edward Elric  
Per. 1  
Persuasive Speech, Science is the True Religion

Of course, of all students to start with, it was the Devil himself. The opening sentence was, “Science, the final hurdle of humanitys understanding of the universe as we know it,” for godsake. That kid loved pissing people off, or maybe the shit lived for it. Why Roy liked the little prick was a mystery. Elric would hang himself before calling Roy “Mr. Mustang’’, spent all of class arguing every single thing he said, and when he showed up to the Debate Club he’d spend the whole time eating the snacks. His only redeeming feature was how well he did at the tournaments.

The brat had brought home four trophies, as a damn freshman! There were still seniors struggling to bring home one. By the time Roy finished the speech, his pen had pressure cracks from where he’d been holding it. The speech was good, but Roy did have to critic some things. They did not want to start any riots at a tournament if Elric decided to do this one.

At least the gradebook was completely digital now. He tapped it in quickly and plopped the speech in the return box. One down, about one hundred and fifty to go.

During lunch he would go get that coffee.

==========  
“Greed, I tell you this with all the love in my heart. Go fuck yourself.” Dorchette held up his Planner, a disgusting mix of chocolate milk and fresh ink dripping off the pages. Greed shrugged and took a bite of his pizza. He had heard worse from his mother.

“You insulted pineapple pizza, so I spilled your drink,” he said. No one was allowed to insult pineapple pizza in his presence, the dish was a gift from the pizza gods. Not even his closest friends were allowed to insult it.

Dorchette pulled a face. How this mortal could not understand the greatness of the pineapple was beyond Greeds understanding. Spongebob, the true King, lived in one!

“Pineapple pizza is still made out of Satans shit.”

Someone plopped down on the bench next to Greed, far away from the chocolate puddle.

“You called?” Ed leered at the two of them. He must’ve swiped some coffee from a teacher if he was this chipper. Greed snorted. The person who introduced the kid to coffee deserved to die. Pointing his pizza slice in Eds face, Greed cried out,

“Begone, Lucifer!”

Ed grinned and wiggled his butt in the seat, decreeing his unwillingness to budge an inch. Dorchette grumbled something about napkins, getting up and stalking away. Strange, considering just last week he he spent all of lunch covered in burrito blowout.

“Weak,” Ed declared happily. He slammed his Star Trek lunchbox on the table, and started to root around his backpack. Greed took the opportunity and swiped the box over to him. Alphonse usually packed an extra cookie for Greed on Mondays.

“Says the kid who spent our first meeting screaming his head off!” 

Ed swiped his lunch back and swatted Greed in the head. It didn’t hurt. What hurt the most was that he didn’t get his cookie. He did not like waiting for his delicious, non-nutritious snack of delight. 

“You hijacked my wheelchair and made us both ride it down the fucking stairs!” Ed hissed. He wasn’t doing his cat bristle, so he wasn’t really that angry.

That memory put a smile on both their faces. To quote some old movie, it had been the beginning of a beautiful friendship. True, it may have taken a month for Ed not to cuss Greed out the moment he saw him, but it had progressed. Now Ed only cussed him out when he pissed him off, which still happened often. 

“So how’s Ling been?”

There was another kid Greed wanted to get to know better. Not only because he was Eds Wordkeeper or some shit, but because Ling seemed fun. He climbed through windows to get into class! If that wasn’t hardcore, Greed would be boiled alive and called a fool.

If Greed wasn’t looking for it, he would have missed the way Eds eyes softened for a millisecond. That only happened when he was talking about something Alphonse had done, never had it happened for anyone else. Greed had never believed in signs before, but this had to be a very good one.

“He’s a total dope-face,” Ed said. He had used that description of Ling so many times, but he had never made it clear whether it was a negative or a positive. “He climbed in my window on Friday night because he wanted to see me! Who does that?”

“A dope-face?” Greed supplied.

“Exactly!”

The term was leaning towards the more positive side in Ed-speak. A pet name equivalent, perhaps? Very good in a developing relationship. Pet names were nice and healthy, giving a relation just the right amount of fluff.

“Did he spend the night?”

Ed scowled and threw his hands up in the air. 

“Yes! He fell asleep on my bed even!” 

Did that mean what Greed thought it did? 

“You aren’t the type to share your bed for free, kid,” he wiggled his eyebrows. Ed mimed gagging, and flipped Greed off. The innuendo wasn’t that bad, Ed was just being a drama llama. Greed could do much worse, and when he said so, Ed replied,

“That’s disgusting Greed. You’re disgusting.”

“I am named after a deadly sin!”

The pair snickered. Once they calmed down, Ed finally started to unpack his lunch. Greed considered his friend over the remains of his pizza. There were some nasty rumors going around the school. A few were easy to squash, but some persisted even with Greeds unofficial network. One stood out to him, though.

“Kid…” Greed began. Ed hummed, not looking up from his food. “Has Envy been around ya lately?”

Greed hated his sibling with a burning passion, but he wasn’t stupid enough to underestimate what they would do when someone got their interest. Ed tensed. He knew the full implications of Envys interest.

“I haven’t seen that fucker since I kicked their ass,” he snapped. Greed nodded. The rumors had popped up within the last week, so nothing could have happened yet.

“Alright, good. I’ll keep an eye on the palm tree,” Greed said. It would be easy to call in some favors, even if it meant giving up some connections-

“No!” Ed said. 

“What?” Greed could not believe what he was hearing. Ed was not that much of an idiot, he knew exactly what Envy could do to a person!

“They don’t even deserve a glance!” Ed slammed his fist on the table. “Greed, ignore that fucker. If Envy tries anything I’ll cut off their dreadlocks.”

Greed grabbed Eds shoulders. He was being so stupid about this! Envy was nothing to brush off for a later date. They didn’t care if what they did hurt people, hell, they probably wouldn't mind it if someone died because of something they did! 

“Idiot! What if Envy goes after Ling?” That made Ed freeze. 

‘Good,’ Greed thought. It was a low blow to bring in someone Ed cared about, but it had to be done. Sometimes that was the only way to get through to him.

Ed looked up at the ceiling, almost as in prayer. Now that was a funny thought. Ed praying was like Greed giving away all of his stuff for free.

“I’ll talk to the fucker during Bradleys class, alright?” Greed wrinkled his nose. 

“Totally,” he drawled. “Confront my evil ass sibling in front of my equally evil Uncle. As interesting as the class would be, I rather like you, and would hate to see you suspended.”

“I’ll figure something out!” Ed growled. “Now shut up and let me eat.” 

They sat in silence as Ed stuffed his face a terminal velocity. 

“Have you sucked his-“

“Shwuph uph!”

More silence. Greed tapped his fingers, waiting for Ed to finish. What was taking Dorchette so long? It wasn’t like the napkins were in the main stairway, they were right across the room. It was physically impossible for someone to take that long to get napkins. Martel and Roa were in some sort of detention for “intimidating” some snob, and Bido was probably fucking off somewhere. Ling still hadn’t showed up either. Damn. Greed needed more friends. 

“Ith thath Biewo?” Ed mumbled. Greed looked to where he was pointing and frowned. It was Bido, and he looked… upset. Dorchette was behind him, and he looked pissed.

“Ed, Greed!” Bido shouted. The freshman sprinted across the cafeteria, Dorchette on his heels. 

“What happened?” Greed asked, serious. He knew Bido only ran willingly when it was important, never mind Dorchette. Bido skidded to a halt, wringing his hands. Dorchette was puffing for air, which meant distance. Ah fuck. This was not good.

“Envy pushed Ling down the stairs!”

============

"And that, Fletcher, is the only time you should not use protection," Maes finished with a flourish. Fletcher Tringham slowly pushed the pictures of Elysia out of his face and hopped off of the bed.

"Thanks Mr. Hughes for letting me rest for a bit," he said. "And thank you for the descriptive talk.... I guess."

Maes clapped Fletcher on the back. 

"See ya later! Don't work too hard," he smiled brightly as he talked. But once Fletcher was out the door he frowned. More and more kids were sent down to him just so they could get some rest. Fletcher had been booted out of biology for goodness sake, his best class! What were those teachers doing? Kids aren't robots, they're humans.

His phone rang, and Maes pushed his chair over to the Black Box of Distraction. The wheels on his chair squeaked, protesting the movement. Maes had gotten the chair in his senior year of high school nearly twenty years before, and it had stuck with him through thick and thin. Recently it had gained the temperament of a cranky old woman though. He would need to get rid of it soon. Or maybe actually oil the thing, as Roy had told him when it first happened.

“Nurses office, Mr. Hughes speaking!” 

The woman at the other end of the line coughed a little. That was never good, usually if the office called him, they launched right into what happened. The only other time that the office had paused before telling him what was wrong was when…. Maes did not like to think about that. Some nights he still woke up with nightmares from that event.

“Mr. Hughes, we need you in the main hall. A child was pushed down the main stairway. The ambulance won’t be here for half an hour, and he needs help now.” 

Maes stood up and began to gather the things he would need into a little bag. Keeping the phone sandwiched between his head and shoulder, he asked,

“Is he bleeding?”

“Yes, there are scrapes all over his front.”

Maes cursed and grabbed the antiseptic. How could children be so cruel? When he was that age the most he did was take someones quiche! Pushing someone down the stairs could be fatal. For all Maes knew the boy had internal bleeding! Not to mention fractured bones, a concussion, broken teeth, the list could make a train track of possibilities.

“Unconscious?” 

“No, but very disoriented.”

Bleeding, likely concussion, certainly bruised. That kid would be feeling the after effects for quite a while.

“Anything else worth mentioning?”

“No. Please hurry, he’s gathering a crowd.”

Crowds always made things worse, in his experience. They tried to help, but they always made it worse. Maes almost put the phone down before he thought of a question.

“Do you know who pushed him?”

The woman sighed. That was worse than the pause at the beginning of the call. The office staff loved to talk abut who-had-done-what.

“No adults saw anything, but several students attested to the fact that…” the woman swallowed, but went on. The distaste in her voice was astounding. “Envy.”

‘Of course,’ Maes thought. The one kid in the school that could get away with murder. Having the superintendent as their father gave Envy so much leeway it was ridiculous. If it were up to him that kid would’ve been expelled years ago. Maes had patched dozens of kids back together after an Envy-Encounter. It took a lot for Maes to hate someone, even more to hate a kid, but he hated Envy.

“Thank you. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He rushed out the door, breezing by the students. It was only second lunch, and if he didn't get to this kid quick, he’d be trapped in the middle of a stampede. Maes picked up his pace. He had half an hour to get this kid patched up as much as possible, and he needed to make the most of it.

A minute later he was pushing through a crowd of students. In the middle a teacher was crouched over a student. Maes smiled at the familiar face. 

“Roy!” he greeted. Roy nodded in his direction, his face carefully blank. Maes dropped down onto his knees near the kids head. The poor boy had scrapes all over, just like the woman had said. They were on his face and stomach, probably from the rough anti-slip strips the district was so fond of. Maes would bet there were some on his back too.

“Has any one moved him at all?” Maes asked. Roy shook his head in the negative. 

“He landed at my feet as I was going to get lunch. There was a nasty crack, so I did not let anyone move him.”

It seemed that Maes had imparted a least some basic medical knowledge on his friend. Moving someone with a potential neck or spinal injury was a bad idea. Maes would leave that to the EMTs when they finally arrived. The kid moaned a little.

“I just wanted food,” he mumbled, “and now I’m going to the hospital. Hospital food sucks.”

Maes opened up his bag, shaking his head. The kid was just pushed down the main stairway, and he was talking about food. If the situation wasn’t serious, he would be laughing.

“Don’t worry Mister…”

“Ling Yao,” the kid smiled weakly. One nasty scrape on his cheek bled enough that there was a small puddle on the floor. Maes pulled on his latex gloves, returning the smile. He tore open an antiseptic wipe and patted gently at the scrape. Ling winced at the sudden sting.

“Well Ling, I’m Mr. Hughes. I’ll be taking care of you until the EMTs get here. Can you open your eyes wide for me?”

Ling sighed and complied. His pupils were all sorts of jacked up, which meant concussion without a doubt.

“I’m going to miss lunch with Ed…” Lings muttered, his eyes drifting closed. Maes pinched the inside of his arm. He could not fall asleep now. The kid needed to talk if he was going to stay awake.

“Hey, stay with me. Why are you worried about missing lunch with this Ed of yours?” 

Lings eyes fluttered a little before he answered. The kid practically whispered it, so Maes had to lean in to be able to hear it.

“Because he is mine, and I am his. Words say so…I think.”

Putting a bandage over the cheek scrape, Maes smiled at Ling. The boy was lucky to have met his Wordkeeper at such a young age. He didn't meet his Gracia till a couple of years ago, and this kid met his at fifteen or sixteen!

“That’s awesome Ling! How long have you known?”

“I… can’t think…”

Maes waved his hand to cut Ling off. He should not be asking thinking questions when the boy had a concussion. This was not the time to be nosy-Maes, this was the time to be nurse-Maes. He started on another scrape.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me the specifics,” Maes said. Roy stood up and began to gesture the crowd away, but not too many budged. It had gotten even bigger since Maes had kneeled down, he noticed with a grimace.

The crowd was creating a small roar around them, but Maes didn’t shush them. He needed to treat this kid dammit, not deal with crowd control. That would be Roys job.

“Ed’s so good,” Ling smiled. “He’s so pretty and smart. Like a golden haired… something.”

Nosy-Maes took note of the hair mention. There had to be a few blond Eds at this school, he even knew one.

“Is he? That’s nice.” Those EMTs had better get here soon, Maes could not keep this up. If he knew more about Ling, he could talk to him for hours, but he didn't know anything. 

“Yeah… I needed to pick a date place too…”

Maes hummed and plastered the next bandage on. He understood that struggle, and he was married!

“The Jungle is a great place for dinner,” he said absentmindedly. 

“Jungle…” Ling mumbled. Behind him, Maes heard a snappy voice order the crowd to part. The EMTs had finally arrived, he glanced at his watch, and were even early! They bustled through the gap with a stretcher. The EMT looked down at Maes, his eyebrows furrowed. The scar on his seemed familiar somehow, but Maes could not place it. Strange, considering it took up half of his face.

“Hello, Maes Hughes. I hoped to never come here again.” That explained it. He had to be one of those EMTs, from not so long ago.

“At least it’s not as bad as last time, Mr. Too Depressed For A Name,” Maes said. “Now help this boy.”

As the EMTs prepared the stretcher, Maes put a hand on Lings shoulder. The boy probably wouldn’t remember this later, but he needed to say it.

“If you ever need help my office is open, okay?”

Ling hummed. The scarred EMT pushed Maes aside, muttering something he could not hear. Scar-face was quick and efficient, and it was only moments before they were whisking the boy to the hospital.


End file.
